On a cool Saturday evening in May, the air inside Christ the King in Kingston was humid with the breath of a full congregation squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder. With summer approaching and the days growing longer, the nave was bright throughout the 5 o'clock Mass. This modern church building near the University of Rhode Island, with a steep roofline and abstract stained-glass windows that look like Miro paintings, is the parish of Gary and Paula Benoit.
Twenty five years after their slapdash wedding in a Pawtucket backyard -- with a justice of the peace and a home-cooked buffet -- the Benoits crowded into their church, with dozens of other married couples, to renew their wedding vows. Their life together, as Gary likes to say, "hasn't been 25 years of roses." It might not have happened at all -- she thought he was snooty when she met him; he barely remembers the introduction.
They look forward to this annual renewal ceremony at Christ the King, and try to attend every year. The ritual is like performing maintenance on a long marriage, a tune-up and an oil change, which refreshes the mind about what's important, and what in life is trivial. Speaking the vows together reminds them that they are teammates against the unique hardships of their age. The Gary & Paula Team are in that "sandwich" position between two generations: their children still need them to be parents, and their parents have become like their children. Both have frail and widowed fathers.
The relationship that carried these teammates into their 50s began at a South County beach party, back when she was a nurse, he was a respiratory therapist, and they drove on dates in Gary's orange Pinto, the ugliest car Paula had ever seen. She fantasized about leaving a sign in the windshield: PLEASE STEAL.
Paula was always the spontaneous one with the spirited laugh. Gary can be quiet -- after 25 years he's still hard to read. Beneath his surface are tightly strung emotions. He can be moved to tears by things that are beautiful.
Before they married, they had known that Paula could not have children. Only married people were allowed on the waiting list to adopt through Catholic Social Services; to get on the list -- to start the waiting -- they hurriedly wed on a hazy sunny day, June 13, 1981, the weekend Major League Baseball players stamped off the field and went on strike. They married again more formally the next year in North Providence, at the Church of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, after the Catholic Church approved the annulment of Gary's previous marriage. They celebrate both wedding anniversaries each year. It's a good pub story.
Four years they waited to adopt, until 9-week-old Derek Nicholas arrived in 1985, during the advance of Hurricane Gloria. The police arrived soon after, bellowing from bullhorns outside the Benoits' house in Matunuck, urging the evacuation of the coast. They changed their first diapers by candlelight, with family in Pawtucket. They later became foster parents to another boy, Michael, until they could adopt him. Now he's 18.
At the end of the renewal Mass, Gary and Paula stood in the pew and faced each other, to recite their marriage promise. Around them, couples with as many as 60 years together, and those with as few as 1, rose to renew their vows. Teammates around the church clasped hands. The Rev. Joseph Creedon led the teams through the pledge:
"We renew this day our pledge of love. We ask that God will continue to bless our lives and the lives of our families. Be with us, loving God, and may our lives always be faithful to You and to each other."
Looking into Gary's light eyes, Paula had a thought: All the stuff we've been through with family and with children . . . we're still together. We've got something going here.
"May God continue to light your way on the road of love and may your love grow stronger with the passing of each day. Amen," Father Creedon said. The priest paused, then offered the punch line: "You may kiss the groom."
An entire 25-year marriage can pass before your eyes in an instant such as this. Remember . . . when Paula turned seasick-gray on the honeymoon cruise from hell . . . When she encouraged Gary to follow his dream, quit his steady job and start working toward his own business. . . When Gary told her not to worry she couldn't have kids, they'd get some children somehow. . . . When they shared the delights among the agonies of parenthood . . . When they leaned on each other when their mothers died . . .
They said nothing after their kiss, but the look in her eye, and the tear freely running from his, said silently: Given the chance, I'd do it again.
Your turn: What do you do to keep your marriage happy -- during good times and bad?
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